


The Kissing Booth

by rumplestiltskinsbulge



Series: Kissing Booth Series [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold has found himself rather taken with the pretty young brunette who works at the Game of Thorns. So when she opens a Kissing Booth on Valentine’s Day for a children’s hospital, Anthony Gold starts to feel in the giving mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kissing Booth

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this and many other fics of mine on my tumblr: rumplestiltskinsbulge.tumblr.com
> 
> I post many of my fics there first, as well as answering questions and filling other prompts.

Mr. Gold spent more days than he cared to admit at that silly little flower shop. He didn’t even like flowers, and had never been one for grand romantic gestures. Still, he found himself at the Game of Thorns at least once a week without fail. It had started innocently enough… he would come in once every month to collect the rent from old Moe French (though Gold had no right to talk of being old). He did this for years, and at some point Miss Belle came along. Away at college. That was why he’d never seen her before, apparently. Oh, Gold had known that Moe had a daughter, but he’d never paid much attention as he spoke of her. He quickly wished he would have.

Her beauty caught his eye, but her brilliance caught his attention. It was a few months after she’d come home and, unsurprisingly, the shop was having financial difficulties. The young woman sat at the counter with papers, spouting out various ideas on earning more, spending less, and gaining new clientele. Anthony was quite impressed. “You have quite a head for business, Miss French.”

The father and daughter looked over at the man neither had noticed entering the shop. Moe turned pale, telling Gold that he either didn’t have the money, or did, but it had been close. “Thank you, Mr. Gold.” The lovely brunette gave a smile that could brighten the darkest of hearts. And it would quite often. “Though really, it’s all about knowing how to sell. Something I’m sure you know a bit about, seeing as how you own your own successful business.”

“Ah, but I sell what people need, dearie.” He said, the smirk on his lips nearly mocking. “It’s a tad different, and I would think easier.” She chuckled at that, and Anthony couldn’t remember the last time someone had chuckled in mere amusement at his words.

“I beg to differ,” she countered. “Flowers are beautiful. And people need beauty in their lives.” She twirled a rose in her hand slowly, and Anthony Gold would have wagered everything he owned that roses were her favorites.

“And yet, as surly and dastardly as I am said to be, I have no troubles collecting rents each month.” He spoke as Moe, who had disappeared into the back for the money, returned with it, eyeing him hatefully.

“Ya catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” He mumbled sourly.

“Something you could do to remember, papa.” Belle’s voice was nearly chastising. Turning to face him again, she smiled a soft and genuine smile as she held out the rose to him. “To brighten your day, Mr. Gold.” The action surprised him, and he would tell anyone who asked that that was the sole reason he accepted the flower. And that was the first of many roses he would take from such lovely hands.

For the first few months, he would unconsciously do anything to pass her on the street or in Granny’s, knowing well she would stop him to ask about his day. Fleeting moments as they were, they were dear to him in a way he didn’t quite understand.

Come rent time, he found himself loitering there to speak with her as her father did deliveries. Pointless conversations about the weather, and idle chit chat, but she was easy to speak with, unlike the dreadfully dull and frustrating townsfolk he usually dealt with. And she found his odd and macabre sense of humor amusing. In these moments, he would sometimes be awarded a chuckle, and once, a giggle (which was by far the most adorable sound Gold have ever heard).

Those days would end with the purchase of a rose. “The last one wilted far too soon, and you were right. It did seem to brighten up my otherwise dismal abode.” He found himself admitting.

Soon he found himself there every few weeks to get a new rose, and then, after nearly a year, once a week. He’d learned so much about the beauty that manned the shop in her father’s absence. She was intelligent, well read, and had attended a university for business. Why she wasted her days and talent at her father’s pitiful shop was beyond him (though it had been doing much better since her arrival).

They kept their conversations light each week, but she was growing curious. It was a rather endearing quality. He answered as vaguely as he could, never giving too many details. She called them friends, and he realized she was right. He had a friend. “Us? Friends?” He asked in faux surprise. “The town will shun you for befriending the beast.” She had laughed at that, but made a point to tell him he wasn’t a beast.

He begged to differ.

He always suspected that he was falling for her. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it. She could never care for him in that way. For God’s sake it was a miracle she was willing to associate with him at all. So when Valentine’s day came and he saw the booth outside of the Game of Thorns, the jealousy that swelled in him was unsurprising. A kissing booth.

As he watched Victor Whale hand her a few bills and earn a brief kiss on the lips, Gold held back a growl of annoyance. How he would have liked to wipe that smirk from the good doctor’s face with his cane.. His violent day dreaming came to a halt as another thought crossed his mind. If Whale could pay for a kiss.. he could. He most certainly could.

After the rather red faced Doctor Hopper purchased a kiss on the cheek from the beauty, Gold stepped up to the booth. “Miss French, I do hope your father’s shop isn’t doing so poorly that you’ve reduced yourself to this.” He quipped. She laughed at that, a beautifully warm sound that made the muscles in his stomach tighten happily.

“Surely you’ve heard of a kissing booth,” She said. “You use it to raise money for a charity.”

“Ah, charity..” he said, unable to hide the small smirk as he pulled a few bills from his wallet. “So where, pray tell, would this money go?” Honestly, he didn’t care. To kiss her even once Gold would give the money to a meth addict to support his habit. But he was nervous… what if she rejected the money to avoid having to kiss him? And what if she did and it upset the delicate balance they had? It was already impossible to get her out of his head as it were..

“…books for a children’s hospital.” She was saying as he came from his thoughts.

“I see..” he said, a bit distractedly. “Well, I would be happy to help.” He gave her the money, and felt the nerves rise in him.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. It was a moment of silence as neither of them knew how to proceed. A bit awkwardly, she moved forward. Her lips were to meet his, but at the last moment they landed on his cheek, close to his lips as she blushed a shade of pink that made blood rush to a place beneath his belt.

“Would a few more dollars gain me a kiss on the lips, dearie?” He questioned, brows raised in amusement. Her blush grew, as did his arousal.

“It might..” there was a look in her eyes. A willingness, and almost a.. desire. One he was certain he was making up. As he handed her a few more bills, she moved closer across the counter, and this time, their lips met. It was soft and brief, but it was enough to make him hope she couldn’t notice the rather large problem he was beginning to have. Mostly because his mind wandered to pushing her against the counter keeping them apart.

“Come again, Mr. Gold.” She said softly, the blush still in place.

“I will.” he promised. And he did. Two times, three, four.. he lost count. All in the pretense that he wanted to help the children. But really, he wanted to make certain no one else was kissing her too passionately. And to see that look in her eyes. The one he was starting to hope he wasn’t making up.

By the end of the night, he had given more money to that charity then he ever had to any other. “You must really care about the children..” She wasn’t a stupid woman. She must have realized he didn’t give a damn about if they got books or not. It was her he cared about.

 “Aye,” was all he said, as she packed up the booth. He would give his whole bank account to the charity of her choice if he could kiss her forever..

“I’ll see you soon?” She asked, another question in her eyes. One he couldn’t read.

“My rose is wilting,” he told her. “I trust you’ll see me again quite soon..” And would things then be different? The whole day had been a haze and Anthony wondered if it had been real. Soft, tentative kisses from a woman he only dreamt of having.. but as he returned home to yet another shower to relieve some of the stress, he reminded himself that that was the point of a kissing booth. It didn’t necessarily mean anything at all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Kissing Booth Remix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476237) by [rumplestiltskinsbulge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge)
  * [A Summer Solstice Kissing Booth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312875) by [rumplestiltskinsbulge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge)




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